


I lie to myself all the time

by readerie



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Brotherly Love, Family Feels, Fluff, Found Families, Gen, Iron Bros(TM), Irondad, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Peter and Harley are NOT in love, Sharing a Bed, Tony Stark Acting as Harley Keener's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, based on a scene from The Outsiders, they're just homiesexual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 06:21:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23846659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/readerie/pseuds/readerie
Summary: “You know, when Tony gets mad at you for staying out too late, it’s just ‘cause he’s worried about you,” Harley whispered. Peter felt his breath tickle the back of his neck, but he didn’t mind. “He’s just got a lot of responsibilities, you know, with being an Avenger and the head of a multi-billion-dollar company, plus trying to make sure you don’t get yourself killed as Spider-Man every night. Don’t let it get to you. He loves you a lot, you know? And he’s really proud of you.”Based on a scene from The Outsiders by S.E. Hinton.
Relationships: Harley Keener & Peter Parker, Harley Keener & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 12
Kudos: 94





	I lie to myself all the time

**Author's Note:**

> YOU THOUGHT I WAS A ONE-HIT WONDER, HUH??? GUESS WHO'S BACK
> 
> This fic is based on a scene from The Outsiders by S.E. Hinton! It's at the end of the first chapter, where Pony and Soda are in bed. It's a true work of art, all about brotherly love and friendship and found families in a group of 1960s greasers. You should read it! Also, there's a fantastically cheesy movie adaptation from the 80s (with a young Rob Lowe, need I say more?) Here's the scene this fic is based on (it melts my heart): [link](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uhIM8c6DGqQ). It's from the extended version of the movie, not the original, so even if you've seen the movie, you might not have seen this scene. :)
> 
> Thanks to the lovely [floweryfran](/users/floweryfran/) for her help and ideas and just generally being a great person! (her characterization of Harley's kind of bled into mine a little oops)
> 
> tw: vaguely creepy comments from a drunk guy to a minor

“Quit your brooding and go to sleep,” Harley mumbled, his voice muffled by a pillow. “We’ve got that meeting with what’s-his-face in the morning.” Peter reluctantly turned from the window and flopped himself down on the bed. 

He’d had a particularly hard patrol that night, and his whole body ached. He’d been in the narrow alleyway between a rowdy bar and a pawn shop, trying to help a stray cat with its head stuck in an empty yogurt cup, when he was cornered by a gang of five or six rough-looking drunks.

“C’mon, Spidey, we just want a little look! Just one tiny peek!” one of the guys said, stumbling forward and reaching to pull Peter’s mask off. He had a lecherous glint in his eyes and a thin smile on his lips that sent a chill down to Peter’s bones. The cat, finally free from its prison, skittered away. “The Avengers’ little pet...I wonder what’s under that mask, hmmm?”

“Sorry, guys, but modest is hottest,” Peter said, slowly backing up. “Only my future spouse will be allowed to see my face. And even then, only in private. Them’s the rules. You know how it is”.

A guy near the back of the group spoke up. He had a gold ring on every finger, and they reflected the neon lights from the bar. “We can arrange that, can’t we, boys? There’s a chapel down the road,” he said, elbowing the guy next to him in the ribs. The group erupted into raucous laughter.

“I’m flattered, but I’m gonna have to decline your generous offer.” Peter was boxed in, buildings on either side and a concrete wall behind him. He gulped.

The first guy pulled out a gnarly-looking serrated knife. “Well then, I guess we’ll have to do this the hard way.” He leaned in close, and Peter caught a whiff of his rancid, alcohol-scented breath. “I didn’t want to risk damaging the goods, but….” 

Just as Peter felt the tip of his knife touching his cheek, tearing the fabric and scratching his skin, he gave the guy a swift kick in the nuts and shot a web directly upwards onto a metal awning. 

Safely crouched on the roof of the pawn shop, Peter took a moment to catch his breath. He’d gotten out of worse situations before, but something about that guy with the knife gave him the heebie-jeebies. The group below shouted drunken taunts at him, and the one guy cursed him for damaging the family jewels, but Peter ignored them until they shuffled away.

“Peter, you have a message from Mr. Stark,” Karen said, chipper as always. “His text reads, ‘ _You’d better get your butt back here this instant so we can have a discussion about the importance of curfew_.’ How would you like to respond?”

Peter glanced at the time. “Aw, man,” he said to himself, seeing that it was already 11:25, nearly half an hour past his weekday curfew. If only he hadn’t stopped to help the dang cat. “Tell him I’m on my way.”

He’d swung back to the tower in record time. Upon his arrival, Tony cornered him in the kitchen, and he received a long-winded lecture about being responsible, managing his time, and following the rules. “I just want you to be safe, and sometimes, you make that really difficult,” Tony finished with a sigh, planting a brief kiss on top of his head and shooing him off to bed. “Oh, and no more patrolling for the rest of the week,” he tacked on as Peter walked into his room. Peter knew better than to argue.

Laying there next to Harley, Peter replayed the night over in his mind. He’d seen the types of things that happened in dark alleyways at night, and he knew he was lucky to have gotten away with nothing more than a small tear in his mask and a scratch on his cheek.

And on top of all that, he’d had to endure yet another stern admonishment from Tony (the third one that month) about breaking curfew. Should he really be punished for helping people? He was frustrated and tired, and he shivered a bit, thinking of the look in that man’s eyes and the way the tip of his knife glinted in the moonlight. 

“You cold, Pete?” Harley muttered.

“A little,” Peter lied. Harley scooted a little bit closer and flung an arm across his shoulders.

They were both victims of Tony’s penchant for sort-of-adopting kids in desperate need of paternal love, and upon meeting each other over a year ago, Peter and Harley had skipped the  _ friends _ stage and had gone straight to brothers. They annoyed the heck out of each other on purpose and teased each other to no end, sent each other stupid memes and called for no reason. They loved each other fiercely.

Technically, Peter lived with his Aunt May, and Harley still lived in Nowhereland, Tennessee, but Harley visited NYC at least once a month (on Tony’s dime, of course) for various science conferences and tech conventions (and sometimes just for fun). He always stayed in Peter’s room at the tower, even though there were a multitude of guest rooms he could choose from, and Peter pretended to be put out, but he secretly enjoyed it. In fact, he made it a point to stay at the tower whenever Harley came to visit. He still had occasional nightmares about Ben, and listening to Harley’s quiet snoring never failed to lull him back to sleep. Peter may only have one  _ actual _ relative left, but he sure felt lucky to have a weird little patchwork family made up of various superheroes and a scrappy kid from Nowhereland, Tennessee.

“You know, when Tony gets mad at you for staying out too late, it’s just ‘cause he’s worried about you,” Harley whispered. Peter felt his breath tickle the back of his neck, but he didn’t mind. “He’s just got a lot of responsibilities, you know, with being an Avenger and the head of a multi-billion-dollar company, plus trying to make sure you don’t get yourself killed as Spider-Man every night. Don’t let it get to you. He loves you a lot, you know? And he’s really proud of you.”

“I guess,” Peter said. Deep down, he knew it was true, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t still frustrated. He was doing important work out there, and he hated having a curfew forced on him like a little kid. Sometimes, it felt like Tony got onto him for every tiny little thing he did wrong. 

“Hey, Harley? How come you don’t play guitar anymore?” Harley used to sit cross-legged on the floor in the evenings, strumming chords and humming softly. Peter missed it.

“‘Cause I wasn’t very good at it.”

“Not true.”

“Uh huh. The only songs I could play were ‘Hey There Delilah’ and ‘Achy Breaky Heart’.” Harley poked his shoulder. “Shut up and I’ll tell you something.” 

“Hmmm?” Peter rolled over to face him, already half asleep.

“I think I’m gonna move here. You know, permanently. I wanna go to Midtown with you my senior year. My mom and Tony already have it all figured out. I’ll wait ‘til the end of this school year, though.”

Peter whooped entirely too loudly and threw himself on top of Harley, tackling him in a hug. “Can we tell people at school you’re my long-lost brother? Twins separated at birth? Oh, you’ll need to get the locker right next to mine! And you can join the robotics club with me and Ned!” He bounced up and down a couple times, and the bed creaked.

Harley smacked his back a couple times. “Can’t breathe,” he gasped.

Peter rolled back over to his side of the bed. They stared at each other for a moment, grins splitting their faces right through the middle. 

“You must love me a lot to abandon your mom and sister and cows to move all the way out here _just for me_ , huh?” He knew it wasn’t true, but he said it anyway.

Harley kicked him lightly in the shins. “Mhmmm.”

Peter kicked back. “What’s it like having such an awesome brother?”

He smiled a little, sinking deeper into his pillow. “Most of the time, it’s really nice.”

A couple minutes passed in silence until Harley started snoring softly. Peter turned his head to look at him. In the mellow moonlight, he looked like a marble statue come to life. Peter felt a rush of affection for this idiot boy, his almost-brother. He loved the little red marks on the sides of his nose from his ridiculous hipster glasses, and he loved the little silvery scar that cut through his left eyebrow. He loved the way Harley always knew just what to say, but mostly, he loved that they would get to spend their senior year together.

Peter turned away, wrapping the comforter around himself, and the two of them laid there, back to back. He felt Harley’s shoulder blades press against his own.

Peter thought of Tony: the way he’d looked when he was telling him off for coming home late, his eyes narrowed and hand trembling. Somewhere deep inside, he knew Tony was just looking out for him, trying to keep him safe from people like the guy with the scary knife, but he kept that knowledge locked away for the time being. For now, he wanted to be annoyed and frustrated and pretend, just for a bit, that his biggest problem was an overbearing almost-parent.  _ It doesn’t matter what Tony thinks I should be doing, _ Peter tried to convince himself.  _ He doesn’t know what’s best for me.  _ But he was lying to himself, and he knew it. He lied to himself all the time, but he never believed it.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Let me know what you think??? (This is only my second fic ever, so I've got a lot to learn.) Maybe check out my other Peter Parker fic [the secret ingredient](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19934920). I do have another fic in the works for a special someone's birthday, so look out for that one next month :) Love you guys!
> 
> P.S. A couple lines in here are not necessarily my own (like the last line); they're adapted from the book!


End file.
